A Different Kind of Magic
by A.Boleyn
Summary: Post-203 Ar/Mor. My imagination's version of what occurred between Arthur and Morgana on the ride back to Camelot . "I feel as if I don’t know you anymore."


**A/N: **This was written to be a "missing piece" from the most recent Merlin episode, 203 or "The Nightmare Begins". The lack of any Arthur/Morgana interaction (shippy or otherwise) is excruciating! This is my first Merlin fic with actual dialogue, so I was nervous about capturing these two characters. I posted it on LJ earlier this week and by request am uploading it here.

**Rating: ** G

**Disclaimer:** Borrowed characters, no money making involved, **spoilers** for episode 203.

Thank you for reading! :) I hope it helps fill the ArMor void!

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**A Different Kind of Magic**

The plodding of Arthur's horse beneath Morgana seemed to match the rhythm of the throbbing in her leg. By now, however, the exhaustion was worse than the pain, and she felt increasingly drowsy as they paced through the forest. She shifted in the saddle slightly, feeling a little awkward yet pleased by Arthur's arms around her waist. She allowed herself to lean against his warm, strong body a little more.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied meekly, detecting a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Good. Enjoy it while it lasts. Because when we get back to Camelot, I'm going to see to it that you spend a few days in the dungeon. Maybe that will teach you a lesson."

She gritted her teeth in exasperation. Couldn't he see what she had just been through? This was simply _not_ the time for his incessant needling. "Whatever for? What inconvenience did I cause you? Called you away from the warm bed of a teenage kitchen maid, perhaps?"

"_No_." He made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat. "What I mean is, I ought to throw you in the dungeon for scaring me like that."

Morgana merely snorted in response. As if he really cared.

"What was that for? Some thanks I get for risking my life to rescue you." His hot breath on the back of her neck was making her crazy, and she fought the urge to shiver. When it came to Arthur, the line between despising and desiring was so thin.

"You can't fool me, Arthur. Go ahead and play the big hero who rescued the damsel in distress. But I know why it is you came; it was only because Uther _made_ you."

"Is that what you think?" he asked incredulously. She could feel his body tensing against hers.

"It's what I know," she huffed, jutting her chin outward. She knew she was testing him but she couldn't resist – he had started it, after all. Some things needed to be said.

The exasperation was fully evident in his voice now. "How about I tell you what _I_ know? _I_ know you weren't kidnapped."

She inhaled sharply. "Arthur, you don't understand, it wasn't--".

Firmly, he cut her off. "I don't want to know why you were consorting with the Druids. And don't worry, I'm not going to tell father the truth. I'm going to erase it from my mind and we will never speak of it again. All right?"

Morgana bit her lip and nodded, unsure of how else to respond. "I saw the boy again," she said softly. "The boy we helped escape."

"Mordred?"

She swung her head around in surprise, meeting Arthur's gaze. "Yes. How did you know his name?"

He shrugged casually. "He told me. The night I took him back to his people."

She nodded. "Of course." They had never spoken of the Druid child since that night.

Thoughts of the boy they teamed up to help dissipated the tension between them. They rode in silence for a little while before Arthur spoke again. His voice and mood had softened some. "I came because I was scared to death of where you were, and of what I might find. Honestly, Morgana, I would have done anything to get you home safe. You _know_ there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."

She sighed, her heart aching in desperation, wanting to believe the words he said. It was true that until recently, she believed this. "There was a time I believed you would do anything for me," she murmured. "But now… now I feel as if I don't know you anymore. We used to know each other better than anyone. What happened?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know. I could say the same for you. You've gotten all moody and mysterious on me."

"I thought men like women who are mysterious," she teased slyly.

"It isn't some game. Love should be about honesty."

"Love? Now you sound like a poet. Ironic, considering that the great love of Arthur Pendragon's life is _himself_." She knew the words were harsh, but dammit, he _deserved_ it.

She felt him cringe as the insult hit its mark. "That's not fair," he sniped defensively. "You have no right to be so rude, not after all this. What, with the whole kingdom on lockdown while you are out cavorting in the forest with the Druids like a common floozy."

Fury rising fast within her, she tried to keep the volume of her voice in check, lest the other men pick up on the argument. "You can't talk to me like that. I don't care if you are a prince. _I'm_ the King's ward."

"You're an enormous pain in my ass, that's what you are."

"Stop this horse," she demanded, seething. "I'd rather walk back to Camelot."

"Don't be ridiculous. With that leg of yours, you wouldn't make it ten yards."

God, he could be so condescending sometimes. "I said, STOP this horse, or I am going to scream."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, you dare me, do you? You know how _that_ usually turns out."

With a garbled groan of frustration, Arthur halted his horse so suddenly that she almost went nose-first into its mane.

"Dammit, Morgana, I've had enough," he hissed in her ear. He waved the rest of the men on around them. "Go on, the Lady needs a brief rest. We'll catch up," he commanded them.

Wrenching herself from his grasp, Morgana slid off the horse. Despite an attempt to land carefully on her uninjured leg, she toppled backwards and fell heavily to the ground. She cried out as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her leg.

Arthur dismounted and knelt down next to her, offering to pull her up, but she wanted no part of his help. Now both her leg and pride were wounded. "Get away from me. I _hate_ you!" she spat, stumbling to her feet.

Arthur laughed uproariously. "No, you don't, my dear. You _love_ me."

Morgana was livid. Barbs and taunts she was used to receiving from Arthur – she could handle those and volley them right back. But she absolutely _hated_ it when he laughed at her. Caught up in anger, she instinctively brought her hand up to slap his smug face, but he was far more experienced in physical combat. He deftly caught her by the wrist before she could make contact. Pushing her back against the nearest tree, he pinned her arms on either side of her. Though she fought furiously, writhing and struggling, she was unable to wrestle herself from his control.

Nose to nose with her now, Arthur said, "You listen to me. In three seconds, I'm going to kiss you. You've got that long to try to stop me. One…"

She glared fiercely at him, hoping he couldn't hear the pounding in her chest. She _should_ stop him… of course she didn't want him to kiss her. Right? She just… couldn't force the words out.

"Two…". _Oh, God._

Finally, she choked out, "What if I don't want to stop you?"

He shrugged. "Time's up."

And suddenly her breath was sucked away as Arthur crashed his mouth to hers; possessively, forcefully. Releasing her arms at last, he cupped her chin with one hand and pulled her body into his with the other. She whimpered with shock and delight, clutching at his shoulders. However lovely this was, she simply couldn't let him dominate, so she kissed him back aggressively, biting his lower lip. They kissed the way they fought - challenging each other, not giving in, taking what they wanted and leaving it all out in the open.

Time had stopped and neither was sure how long the kiss lasted. When Arthur finally pulled back, they were both panting. "How does that suit you, My Lady?" he gasped.

The surprise attack made it hard to think, hard to breathe. She didn't like it when Arthur got the upper hand – it so rarely happened. Shocked, she brought a finger up to her throbbing lips. The kiss felt hot and rough and hungry and wet, but mostly it just felt _right_. It was something she had been longing for but even better than she'd dreamed.

Since she couldn't find her voice, Morgana simply put her hand to his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers. Their lips fit together perfectly, she noticed. Kissing Arthur, being this close to him, was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and it gave her a most thrilling sense power. With this kiss she had lit another fire; it was a different kind of magic.

They broke apart again, reluctantly, as gravity slowly pulled them back to earth. Arthur kicked at the ground absentmindedly. "So. What do we do now?"

"I don't know," she said truthfully. She leaned her head back against the tree, the world still whirling around her. A million different emotions coursed through her. "I don't know about anything anymore."

"Listen, Morgana." He paused, licking his lips. "So help me God if you repeat this to anyone, because I'd be the laughing stock of every knight in the realm. But just know… you always have me. You can always count on me, no matter where you go, no matter what your problems are. I swear to you."

She stared at him as if he were not quite real. "I believe you." Touching his face, running her fingertips over his cheeks, confirmed that this was indeed the same Arthur who could always make her spitting mad and hot with yearning at the same time.

Then, predictably ruining the solemn moment, Arthur rolled his eyes. "_Even_ though you often make me want to rip my hair out."

She smirked. "Pity. You wouldn't be nearly as attractive if you were bald."

A distant shout and sound of hoof beats alerted them both. Arthur sighed. "We'd best get moving, before you are reported missing yet again. Father will be waiting."

"Yes. I'm ready to go home now." She would forever be connected to the Druids, but right now all she could think about was a warm bath and her soft bed. Then she remembered his threat from earlier. "Are you still going to send me to the dungeon?"

He grinned wickedly. "Maybe I'll banish you to my chambers instead. You could serve your time there."

"I might prefer the dungeon to being ravaged by you all night. At least I could get some rest."

Morgana allowed him to help her back up on the horse, and he hopped up behind her, encircling her waist with his arms. Much more relaxed, she leaned back into his chest as exhaustion once again overtook her. Her leg still hurt but she hardly noticed it, slowing drifting into a light sleep.

When she awoke, Camelot was at last within sight, its turrets peeking out from behind the tree tops. A feeling of relief and gratefulness flooded over her. A tingle of something – perhaps happiness? – was felt way down deep inside. _Maybe things will really be okay_, she thought. Two barriers had been broken in one day: accepting herself, and accepting her relationship with Arthur, no matter how complicated either might be. Earthly or magical, Morgana decided, she was going to embrace all of her gifts.

_fin_


End file.
